a peek inside the poetic freak

Once upon a time, I was just a little girl.
I thought I knew what I needed to know.
Then time passed and I had to grow
up. I wasn’t a bad
thing and it wasn’t a rad
thing
to experience, I think.
It just was.

Now I’m in my adolescent
and know
some things that I don’t know.
Like why the sky is never green
or brown,
or how fast muscles in a grin
can turn into a frown.

Other things I know
I’ll never fully know.
Like why I love you so
and why no
reciprocation is there.

But, these things I comprehend:

One, that this is karma’s way
because I’ve hurt a friend.

Two, that this feeling won’t go away
and will continue for years on end.

Three, I’ll feel dumb
and numb
and be broken
and be awoken
to the fact that one day
this condition won’t stay
—this, too, shall pass.

Four, I might be wrong.
And it will never be gone.
Or maybe not soon enough
or not vanished enough.

Five, that I don’t really care.
At least I’m aware
that I can’t relinquish
this like I eat a dish
no matter how hard I wish.

And finally, that I’ll let this be.
I’ll savor
the savor
from love
and of
the beautiful pain
and all it’s glory,
the whimsical feeling and serenity,
the insanity
and intangibility
of it all.

P.S. This is me really asking: is the title grammatically correct? (Six of….)